


When It Rains, It Pours

by XelSaji



Series: When it Happens [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Barbatos/OC (Shall we Date?: Obey Me!), Canon X OC - Freeform, Hate Sex, I'll add more tags as I update, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, OC, OC (Shall We Date?: Obey me!) - Freeform, One-Shot, Own Character, Porn with Feelings, Repressed Emotions, Repressed Feelings, anal penetration, breeding????, character sketch, hidden feelings atleast lmao, i dont know-
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:48:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XelSaji/pseuds/XelSaji
Summary: A character sketch about Barbatos, the loyal butler of the demon prince. From the otome gameObey Me!
Relationships: Barbatos/Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Series: When it Happens [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1871512
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	When It Rains, It Pours

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for not continuing this series. I have sort of fallen out of the fandom and I do not feel as comfortable as writing about Obey Me! as before. I apologize to those that were waiting for the update of this work.

To become a servant is a task of life-and-death. You do not serve with merely an ounce of your loyalty. You do not serve half-heartedly. Even wholeheartedly is not enough. No, you simply need to offer your heart and soul to your master. That is what Barbatos had learned from an early age. The caste system in Devildom is obvious. Even the roles in the royal court are apparent. Everyone must stay in their place; no lanes are to be crossed and no lanes are to be changed. That is the key to maintaining order. 

For generations, it is a tradition that the family of earls and dukes must serve the royal family. That is the debt they must pay to the Demon Lord and his descendants. A loyalty deeply rooted inside his veins, running through his blood, and passing down through each descendant. 

In Barbatos’ case, he takes this very seriously. 

Barbatos is quick-footed. He does not hesitate upon a decision nor is he indecisive. He works swiftly, cleaning up every spot until all surface is polished. A demon who only ever shows a placid smile at every being he comes across. A stone-faced demon, graceful and elegant, whose meticulous and diligent work is often overlooked by the court—but one. 

His majesty, his _young master_ , Lord Diavolo.

Barbatos had served under him when his young master was a pre-teen (in demon years). He had devoted his life to the prince before he was even born. Barbatos never once questioned the binding ritual. To serve under the royal court is an honor itself. The moment his blood was smeared onto the newborn prince’s forehead, he knows that he is to serve him until the end of time—until his death or until he is no longer useful. 

Barbatos is nothing more than a butler to the prince. That is his life and his duty. He knows of its conditions, its benefits, and its consequences if ever he shall overstep his boundaries as a butler. Of course, over the passage of years, Barbatos knows to himself that he had overstepped a few. This includes the growing infatuation towards his young master. 

It could not be helped, he supposes, his admirations for his young master. He could not deny the lingering feeling of lightness when he grows close to him and the growing feeling of dread that comes along it. 

Barbatos remembers what his master had told him before. _A butler is to serve his master for eternity—to romance the master, or indulge in the activity, is a sinful disgrace._

The punishment adhering to the affairs of a royal and a servant is more severe than punishment to any crime. An eternity chained in Mt. Caucasus, where the eagles and the vultures are to feast on his organs, only to regrow them the next day, and lose them once more. It is rather gruesome, Barbatos knows, but being separated from the young master is a graver punishment than becoming an infinite feast for the scavengers. 

He would not allow this to come. He is wiser than that. He is wise enough, at least, to swallow his feelings behind a static smile. 

However, even wise men can become fools to their own actions. 

Before Diavolo there was someone else. Someone who turned his back against the warmth of the world and bring fire against it. Someone who understood Barbatos the most and was the first demon who had ever suggested the idea of freedom to him. Now that demon is gone, and he is nothing more than a stranger to him now. A stranger who he often comes across during his travels. A stranger whose touch burns his skin through his scales, whose harsh words nip at his heart, whose lips scarcely mark him as his own, and who Barbatos throws his desires at. 

Yes. He is nothing more than a stranger to his past. A regretful choice he chose not to be shackled down to. He will be kept in the dark and forgotten, just like the rest of his past regrets and feelings.

Or at least he thought so. 

When his young master had called him to prepare his afternoon tea, Barbatos nearly did a double-take. It takes him a second to process the sudden information his young master had given to him. It is not the fact that he is slow, just that he is in a momentary shock it almost feels like an ice breaker rather than an announcement. 

“…your brother is coming?”

“Yes!” Diavolo exclaimed, eyebrows shooting up with his shoulders as he spun around his chair to grin widely at Barbatos. “Isn’t that exciting? It’s been five millennia since he had last contacted me.” 

Barbatos can spoil the fun sometimes. “But my lord…is this not so sudden? You know your brother…he is not one to come over at short notices.”

“Ah, don’t worry! Whatever it is he needs; I will give it to him! I’m glad to have to entertain his company.” 

_Always the optimist_ , Barbatos thinks with a gentle sigh, as he prepares the drawing-room for his young master (and his visitor’s) afternoon tea. As much as it bugs him deeply, he knows better than let his feelings rise. After all, avoiding eye contact unless asked by an authority is a skill of his. Being invisible is another. 

So, when the time of visit arrives, Barbatos pretends that he is merely a fly on the wall. Despite the obvious, and _annoying_ , stare he receives from his young master’s brother. Barbatos carries on his duty. He had served both authoritarians their cups of tea and sliced _monte cristo._ He is graceful as he is quick. Yet those minutes of serving their afternoon snack felt like drawing hours with the intensity of _his_ gaze. It made Barbatos’ throat itch. Still, he shows no sign of a reaction, and merely bows in respect before leaving the drawing-room. 

Once out of sight he lets go of the breath that was building at the end of his throat. Sweat prickles his nape. Like needles. _Or perhaps his nails._

Barbatos sighs. He reminds himself that he is a royal butler, an honorable demon serving under the royal court. Feelings are distractions that will disturb his work. He should not be affected by such. 

However, just as he thought that he had escaped the lion’s glare, he is once again summoned to the drawing-room. As much as it pricked Diavolo’s request pricked his throat, he had to comply. He is willing to do anything for his young master after all. 

When his young master had retreated to the hallways to give his brother some privacy with the butler, Barbatos’ placid smile quickly dropped into a thin line. His stoic expression was enough to make the room cold. However, that did not seem to intimidate the unwanted visitor at all.

“What do you want.” Barbatos, with every inch of his burning bitterness, frankly says.

His past regret sat crossed legged at the cushioned chair, chuckling with sharp jabs of poison ivy. Now that he is staring at him through his golden eyes specked with red rubies, Barbatos takes note of his appearance after five millennia, and the sudden sharp intake of his breath. 

From his polished black shoes to the lack of wrinkles on his suit, Buer takes the title of “President of Devildom” with his chin up high. What is even more noticeable was the subtle curl of his lips and the growing intensity of his stare that suddenly made Barbatos’ palms sweat.

“Now, now, _Barbie,_ ” he teased, emphasizing on the nickname Barbatos _clearly_ loathes, “is that how you treat your masters with respect?”

“You are no master of mine,” Barbatos corrected. His narrowed eyes made the mocking smirk of Buer’s fall into a flat line. “I serve one master. And it is surely not you. Now, _what is it that you want?_ ”

Silence draws out in the room. Barbatos keeps his body still but his heart started to beat erratically against his chest. The drumming in his ears is starting to drown out his voice of reason. He can still hear it. He sure he still can. He will be alright as long as he can still hear it. 

“You’re never the one to beat around the bush, do you Barbie?” Buer mused, tilting his head to the side. His voice rumbled against his throat, volume dropping an octave that slightly resembles a purr that made Barbatos shiver. Still, the butler kept his reactions to his tone. “Unlike you,” Barbatos scoffs. 

Buer chuckles that Barbatos felt another jab at his skin. “Can’t I see my favorite butler?”

“Your _favorite?_ ” Barbatos is incredulous. “Oh, I assure you, Buer, you have no favorites other than picking your toys.”

“Is that not what you are?”

Barbatos opens his mouth to speak but stops. He stared at the demon seated across him. His fingers started to twitch and so does his brow. The breath that is building up at his throat presses onto being released with the churning fire at the bottom of his stomach. 

He is not affected. He is _not._

“I think you need to leave,” Barbatos announces, after a minute of nothing. The placid smile back on his face. Every syllable of his words is laced with nothing but venom. The smirk is back on Buer’s face and he pushes himself up from his chair. “I will,” he says, “after I get what I came here for.”

The sudden hotness of another’s lips crashing upon his broke the flames. The hotness of his skin against his sleeve was unbearable and made it harder to breathe. His slap resonating across the room. His breath finally left his throat in ragged pants, face flushed with anger and disgust at the demon right in front of him. 

Barbatos seethed with hate.

Buer only laughed. 

“You _imbecile._ ” Barbatos spat. The loud drumming of his heart drowned his reasons and all he could feel in his trembling body was loathing. His hand curled into a shaking fist as he yanks Buer’s necktie down. Barbatos breath is sharp as his piercing gaze. His tail flickers back and forth as the wings on his hand beats erratically. Anyone standing in his presence would be petrified by fear. But a demon like Buer? Oh, how Barbatos wish to fling his fingers around his thick neck. 

“Go ahead,” Buer drawls, eyes mocking the servant in his place. _“Show me how much you hate me.”_

The room dissolved into a colorful blur. The flames inside him grow stronger, and stronger until it consumes every bit of skin and flesh. The smoke churns, billowing, blinding his eyes with the bitter desire burning at the pit of his stomach. 

Claws tear apart his top and bottom, and he hisses in retaliation. The tie was off and around his neck—and _he_ squeezes—and he gasps against the lips that burn against his tongue. 

He gasps. He growls. He _whines_ at the splintering feeling dancing around his heart. Every bit of rationality left his mind and all he could think of is _want, want, want._

And this demon—oh, he gives him what he _wants._

Barbatos will never admit it—despite the fingers pulling at his nubs, the tail squeezing around his thighs, and his hands pulling close his horns to coax his canines deeper onto his skin—he will never admit that he wants _him._ He will keep his lips sealed with the tongue that ravages his. He will keep his words drowned with growls and mewls that only the walls can hear. And even though the pit of release is nearing and coiling at his stomach he will _never_ admit that he wants him _back._

“You’re so full of yourself—” Barbatos seethes, but strangled whine comes out instead. Buer chuckles, deep and dangerous, as his hand grips tight at both the butler’s wrists behind him. He has Barbatos bent over the cushioned chair. His barbed tail sways back and forth that Buer could only assume that Barbatos is suggesting to _fuck him already._

“Oh, I’m full of myself?” Buer grabs a fistful of his hair, grinding his member between Barbatos’ wet cheeks, and drinking in the ragged gasps of the butler. His hips twitch and he felt ashamed. His cheeks flare up and he snaps his head to the side to glare at the demon. Buer smirks down at him. Barbatos opens his mouth to retort—to close it instead when he feels his body being _hotly stretched out._

He trembles, he gasps, he bucks back against the hard cock filling his wet walls, and Buer laughs him. “Oh, _darling_ ,” Buer purrs, moving in a slow and but impactful pace, “you’re the one _full_ of myself.”

Barbatos will never admit it. He will never admit how his hot hands on his skin feel so familiar. He will never admit how he welcomes every bite and suck. He will never admit how _good_ his cock feels when it rams over, and over inside him, abusing his prostate without a bit of rest. At least not _verbally._ For now, Buer must enjoy the trembling of his butler’s body. 

Buer doesn’t have to understand Barbatos’ pathetic babblings to know that he is close. The way he tightens his hole around his cock is begging enough. Barbatos is good at voicing what he wants through his body, anyways. 

So, when he pulls out, Barbatos gives him a hearty _whine._

And Buer rewards him with a plunging _thrust._

The dam breaks inside of Barbatos. Every inch of his skin is crawling, every nerve in his body is tingling, and his lower half could only take as much of the damage it could. Buer plunges deep, deeper, and _deeper_ , until Barbatos crying out for his release to every portrait in the room. 

The drumming in his ears grows and grows, and the smoke that blinds his vision fills his lungs until it pulls out the relief he craves.

He spills, and spills, and spills on the plush cushion. The heat never leaves his body. _He_ did not let it leave. Barbatos is filled, and filled, and filled, to the brim. And the heat stays pooling inside him.

It is evening when Diavolo summons him to his office once more. His young master is buried deep in his paperwork, as usual. Barbatos smiles. “You wish to see me, my lord?” He asks, refilling the empty mug with a new pot of coffee. “Ah, yes. I’m preparing to check the decorations for the upcoming school festival and I wish for you to check if they are appropriate enough for the event,” Diavolo inquires, eyes not leaving the folder. Barbatos thinks that the request is far from odd and looks over his shoulder to check.

Though, he did notice the sudden shift of his young master’s tone. After giving pointers about the decorations, Barbatos asks if the prince is alright, to which he replied positively.  
“I’m just a little tired.” Diavolo smiles and returns to his work. Barbatos tilts his head at him, thinking, then figures it might be nothing serious. “Perhaps you should take a brief rest, my lord.”

Diavolo waves his hand dismissively. “Do not worry about me. You take a rest yourself.”

Despite the jab at his chest, Barbatos obeys his young master’s wishes and leaves the room. It is not odd to see the prince of Devildom caught up in his work. What is odd, Barbatos notes, is the fact Diavolo seems to be purposely overworking himself. He knows his boundaries unlike Lucifer, and only overworks himself if there is—

Barbatos freezes.

There was a sharper jab at his chest. The chill wraps around his throat and he finds it a little hard to breathe.

The delayed realization petrifies him.

_Diavolo knows._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels very odd to be called a character sketch, but that is my intention of writing it ^^~  
> I planned on writing a work where I explore a complicated relationship that Barbatos might have. He is mysterious, after all, and the game only offered what it could to us.  
> This will be a multi-chapter featuring different themes I would like to explore with Barbatos.
> 
> This is also a gift to my baby ^^~
> 
> * Buer is an OC created by onemunchyboi. You can find his IG here: https://www.instagram.com/onemunchyboi/  
> His relationship with Barbatos is based on our roleplay together.


End file.
